Six Weeks
by Batman Lamp-Writer
Summary: AU Four teens are stuck together for a GED program, but can they get past their differences to help each other? Rated for cursing and violence. Lots and lots of violence.
1. Val 1

A/N: Yeah, I know, I shouldn't be starting a new story. But this one (and another that I'll post once I have it completely written) just wouldn't leave me alone!

This is vaguely based on my dad's GED program. VAGUELY. Written because 1) I'm a Lancer fan (He's just so much like Lawler!!) and 2) I wanted to try out a new take on the characters.

Sorry for any OOCness/confusion over the switching POV's from chapter to chapter.

5! \/\/33|5

I don't know why I even agreed to this. I mean, so I dropped out of school. So what? I only did it so I could help Dad pay for stuff by getting a full-time job. I still found time for ghost hunting and the hours sucked, but we got by. I had no complaints. But Dad did. It was either this or go back to Casper high, which was _so_ never gonna happen. _Ever._

My point here is this: I didn't belong here. I didn't drop out as a way to rebel against Dad. I didn't hack into the school's computer to change my grades. I wasn't like that. I wasn't like Manson and Foley.

And I most _certainly_ didn't do whatever the hell it was that got Fenton dragged in here in handcuffs. I was a good person, not a druggie or gang-banger. I wanted to _help _my dad.

But he _never _saw things the way I did. He _forgave_ the ghost that ruined our lives. He didn't want me working full time. He didn't want me hunting at all.

He wanted me in Lancer's stupid after-school GED program.

5! \/\/33|5

"Ah, Ms. Grey!" Lancer exclaimed as I came in, arms crossed. "You're early."

"I'd rather just get this over with, Mr. Lancer."

"Well, you'll have to wait. There are a few other students coming."

"Well, as long as I don't know them, that's fine with me."

"Then I'm _so_ sorry to disappoint you, princess," Sam Manson snarled as she came in, scowling.

I rolled my eyes. "Great. Now I have to survive this class _and_ your sarcasm."

"At least _I'm_ witty enough to _be_ sarcastic!"

"Oh, boy. I'm gonna be trapped in the middle of an eternal catfight," Tucker Foley groaned, slapping a hand over his face and collapsing in one of the desks in the front. "And I didn't even bring a mud pit!"

I sighed. Nothing was going my way today. Ignoring the other two as they began arguing, I asked Lancer, "Can we just start already?"

"Sorry, Ms. Grey, there's still one more person we need to wait for."

The PA system in the room came on just then, startling Manson and Foley and causing Lancer to half-smile.

"_Mr. Lancer,"_ the principal said, _"your final student is here. Should I send him down?"_

"Yes, thank you, Ms. Ishiyama."

There was a pause, then, _"He's on his way, but he might have some attitude problems."_

"I understand."

"_Good luck, Mr. Lancer."_

Good luck? What did she mean by that? I didn't have to go by the office on my way in, and by the looks on their faces, neither had Foley or Manson. So what—?

The door opened again, and the three of us gaped as two policemen came in, dragging a teenaged guy between them. He looked familiar, but I couldn't think of his name.

The policemen threw him into a chair and uncuffed his left hand, instead handcuffing him to the desk by his right. He huffed, pulling at the desk to see if he could get out of them. Then, he looked up and noticed Lancer. He smirked, whispering hoarsely, "'Lo 'gain, Ed."

Lancer winced. "I've told you a million times, Mr. Fenton, you are to call me Mr. Lancer in class."

"No' in class righ' now, are we?" His voice was cracking, and his breath smelled horrible.

One of the policemen poked him in the ribs with his gun. The other asked Lancer, "Are you sure you want him here, sir?"

"It'll be fine."

"Alright. Here's the key to the handcuffs. We suggest not unlocking them until we get back, but it's up to you."

"I'd suggest leaving him there to rot. We'd all be a _lot_ better off without _his_ kind on the streets."

"Love _you_, too Officer Klein," Fenton mumbled.

I finally realized who that was. It was _Danny Fenton_, the ghost hunter's kid. He was never at school, and he'd been arrested last year for… something. The kid had been an enigma ever since he started "attending" Casper High.

The policeman poked him in the ribs again, and Fenton winced. "Ge' tha' damn gun _'way_ from me!"

The cop hissed back, "You rather I shoot you? 'Cause I don't mind either way."

He'd said it quiet enough that only Fenton, Manson, and I heard it, though it seemed he meant it only for Fenton's ears.

Fenton smirked again. "I'll have 'a tell Rooney you're threat'nin' me, won' I, Officer Brophy?"

"Like _anyone_ would believe a word _you_ said," he growled, shoving Fenton almost off the desk. There was a loud cracking noise as his right arm moved, unable to continue because of the handcuffs. He winced as the two officers nodded to Lancer and left.

"Well…" Lancer said, trying to regain some semblance of order, "let's begin, shall we?"

5! \/\/33|5

Only ten minutes into our first class assignment and _already_ we were at each other's throats. Lancer had given us each a paper we were to fill out together, but he didn't tell us anything else. We were arguing over how to fill it out.

"Jus' go through an' answer the damn thin'," Fenton grumbled.

Manson glared at him, then turned to Lancer. "You can't make me work with them, Mr. Lancer. I _refuse_ to work with _them._" She crossed her arms, huffing. "I shouldn't even _be_ here."

"Oh, and _I_ should?" I snapped.

"Yeah, you should. You were failing everything when you dropped out, right, princess?"

"Quit calling me that!"

"Girls!" Lancer yelled, effectively stopping the fight. For now. "Sit down and finish your work.

I looked over at Fenton. He wasn't even working on the assignment! He was writing some kinda letter, not answering the stupid questions the rest of us were doing! That is _so_ not fair.

Then I noticed that Manson and Foley were ignoring the assignment, too. That _really_ got me mad. Well, if they weren't gonna do it, then I wasn't gonna be the only one working!

But boredom struck after just a few minutes. Sighing, I glanced again at Fenton. His letter was _really_ long. Who the hell could he be writing to?

Manson and Foley started fighting again just before our "class" was over. Fenton just kept writing even after the two idiots started beating the crap out of each other.

Lancer went _insane_. He pulled at Foley, trying to get him to stop. That just made him a better punching bag for Manson. As Lancer backed up and Manson moved past Fenton's desk, Fenton ducked under a couple of her punches without pausing his writing.

One of Manson's punches missed Foley and hit Lancer instead, causing him to let go of Foley. Manson and Foley went back at it, raging around the whole room. I watched, wide-eyed and not used to two people just randomly fighting in school. Casper wasn't like that. I mean, I was used to ghosts fighting all the time, but not teens my age. That just didn't happen here.

As they fought, Lancer stumbled towards Fenton's desk. Fenton had finally finished his letter and tugged at Lancer's sleeve with his uncuffed hand.

"Yes, Mr. Fenton?" Lancer asked, exasperated.

"S—Sir, could—could you give this ta Jazz?" Fenton replied, nervous. He held out the letter.

I was confused. Who was Jazz? Why was he bothering to write to her? Why would she even _want_ a letter from him? I mean, he's been in jail! What girl in her right mind would _date_ that kind of guy?

But Lancer just smiled and nodded as he took the paper. "I'll give it to her tomorrow."

"Thanks."

That made me stop. Thanks? A con actually said _thanks?_ For something as simple as _delivering a letter?_ This kid was _definitely_ a weirdo!

Manson and Foley finally stopped fighting as the "class" came to an end. They hadn't done any of the work we'd been given, and I'd only finished the first two questions, but Fenton turned in the whole thing, saying he'd done it before he wrote the letter.

I was still in shock when the policemen came back in. They took the key back from Lancer and recuffed Fenton's left hand, then they poked and prodded him out the door.

Manson and Foley left next, glaring at each other through black eyes and bruised faces. I wouldn't be surprised if they killed each other by the end of the week. I was ready to kill either one of them, both if I could!

But Fenton was something strange. He was confusing in more ways than one. His family isn't very well known outside of the ghost thing, and he hadn't even been in school for a day last year before getting carted off to prison.

Either way, _I_ sure shouldn't be here.

5! \/\/33|5

A/N: So, if anyone can guess where I get the names for the officers and Lieutenant gets a sneak peek! And sorry for the portrayal of the policemen, I needed to exaggerate it a bit, you'll see why.

Next POV is Sam. Read and review, byez!


	2. Sam 1

A/N: So, chapter two from Sam's point of view!!

5! \/\/33|5

I can't _believe_ I got talked into this. Wasn't it punishment enough that I had to go to school with people like Paulina and Dash and Valerie Grey? Now, when I _finally_ got the choice to leave Casper, they make me go to Lancer's stupid after-school GED program.

Worse yet, Tucker Foley and Valerie Grey were there. I mean, I can understand the cyber cheat and Princess Dropout having to stay after, but me? I hadn't done anything wrong! In fact, _I _was the one who was persecuted everyday for being different. For being _myself!_ Something the populars at Casper couldn't understand.

One thing about this program confused me, though. Danny Fenton. I'd heard about his mom the ghost hunter, but never much about _him_. Well, except for when he was dragged out of the school in handcuffs. _Everyone_ knew about that. It was the only reason my parents _let_ me drop out.

They didn't want me "influenced" by the "dreadful" students at Casper High. They never _did_ understand that none of the people there could _ever_ "influence" me. I was my own person, not a popular clone zombie like everyone else at that school.

Like everyone but Fenton. He was different, too. I'd only had one conversation with him. It was on the day he was arrested.

He seemed normal. Well, as normal as you could be in Amity Park, Most Haunted Town in the US. We talked in between first and second period. He didn't act like a druggie. He didn't even act like a rebel. He just acted… _normal._ He wasn't popular, but he wasn't a "loser," either. If anything, he was a regular person, an average guy that went unnoticed.

Until third period. His class was interrupted when the police came in. They led him off campus and to the station downtown. He never came back.

Until now. And boy, was he different. Prison had changed him, and not necessarily for the better.

5! \/\/33|5

He was dragged in again today. We got the warning over the PA system again, too. Foley had come in with a busted lip and a glare, something that made me _really_ happy. Grey was glaring, too, but only 'cause I'd called her a princess again. I don't know why she hates that name when she _is_ one, even _without_ her dad's cushy old job.

Fenton was cuffed to the seat again and poked in the ribs. Even though he didn't wince, I could tell it hurt. He must have a _lot_ of bruises from those idiots.

The cops left quick this time, after giving Lancer the key again. Fenton went back to whatever it was he'd been doing yesterday.

As we began working, this time for real and on our own, Lancer walked up to Fenton's desk and tapped on it.

Fenton blinked and looked up. "Yeah?"

"I gave Jazz your letter," Lancer said. "She was… happy to hear from you."

"She broke down cryin' when she go' it, didn' she?"

"Just a bit. Okay, for about half an hour after school today."

I was _so_ confused. He wrote a letter? To some girl named _Jazz?_

"Half an hour? I—Is she still—?" He tugged at his handcuffs.

"No. She left a little while ago. But, she did manage to write a letter back." He handed over a piece of paper, watching as Fenton nearly drank it in. Tears pricked his eyes, but he only glared at the paper when he'd finished.

"How long's she been seein' tha' bastard?" he growled, surprising all of us except Lancer.

"Not very long. About since you… _left_."

"Of course. 'Cause he knew I wasn' able ta stop him…. God, firs' he kills him and now this!"

Even _Lancer_ blinked at _that_. "Who killed who?"

Fenton turned his head away. "Nothin'. Never min'. Jus' keep him 'way from Ma an' Jazz."

"I'll try to, Danny."

Fenton's eyes widened in shock, but he nodded all the same. I guess… I guess he wasn't used to being called Danny. After all, those stupid cops didn't even use his name.

I noticed Grey staring, too. Something inside me got really mad at that, but I didn't know why. She was allowed to stare if she wanted to. It _was_ a free world, after all. But I think it was the _way_ she was staring. She looked all… plotting, like she was scheming something up. The way she looked at Danny like that…. It made me wanna punch _her,_ give _her_ a bloody lip like I did to Foley.

But I refrained when a thought crossed my mind. Just because I was the only one at Casper who noticed Danny _before_ he was dragged off didn't mean no one else could notice him now. Besides, it wasn't like I could get _jealous_ over a guy I had only talked to once.

"You got a problem, Manson?" Grey snapped. It was only then that I realized I was staring at _her_ now.

I glared. "No. Why, do _you_, princess?"

"Girls," Lancer said, trying to stop us before we got started.

We ignored him. "Quit calling me that!" Grey yelled.

"Why should I? I don't take orders from _you._"

"Just because I'm not some Goth freak, you think you can get away with—!"

"And just because I wasn't another Paulina clone, you thought you could mock me for life!"

"You're a _freak_, Manson! This is _high school!_ You're _supposed_ to be a clone!"

"_Girls!_" Lancer tried again.

"So, I'm supposed to act like you, huh? I'm supposed to go around school acting like I have no brain and the world should come to an end if my nail breaks?"

"You know what? You're a sarcastic bi—!"

"_GIRLS!_"

I flung myself at Grey, hitting wherever I could. She fought back, surprising me. For a Paulina clone, she sure could throw a punch! And take one, too. We kept going for a while. I knew Foley was taking pictures on one of his stupid cameras, and Lancer was trying to make us stop. He wouldn't grab either of us like he did to Foley, though.

Probably some stupid sexist thing.

Anyway, we kept fighting until Fenton got mad. "Jus' qui' it!" he growled. "Figh'in's no' gonna solve anythin', so why even bother? You'll only en' up hur'."

Shocked, the two of us froze. Fenton continued with his work like nothing had happened, and Foley dropped his camera. Lancer got us to sit on opposite sides of the room.

About ten minutes later, Fenton stopped writing and called to Lancer. "Sir, I have a question."

Lancer walked over next to him, and they talked quietly. I couldn't hear what they said, but Fenton handed Lancer his paper, and Lancer smiled and nodded to him. Fenton stuck Jazz's letter in his pocket and lay his head down on his desk.

Our "class" was over a couple minutes later. The police barged in, grabbed the key, uncuffed Fenton, and pushed him toward the door. As he stumbled, the note fell out of his pocket. The three of them froze, staring at it before one of the cops picked it up.

"What's this?" he demanded.

"Nothin'," Fenton replied. One of them shoved his gun into Fenton's ribs. He grimaced, grumbling, "Jus' a letter."

"Think you can plot something, huh?" an officer snarled. "I don't think so. We'll be telling Rooney about this."

They shoved him out the door and down the hallway. I followed behind them and watched as they practically beat him the whole way.

I knew jail could be rough. My parents had made me stay there one night as a way to "stop my rebelliousness." Of course, it didn't work, but I _did_ see the way they treated criminals. It was _horrible_, but it seemed Fenton got the worst of it.

I felt… _sorry_ for him. I've _never_ felt sorry for a human in my _life_. I mean, animals, yes, but _people?_ _Hell,_ no. After all, they'd always done something to land themselves in awful situations.

My only question now was, what had Fenton and I done to deserve _this?_

5! \/\/33|5

A/N: yay, multi-tasking! And now I'm talking like Danny, whoops. Anywayz, read and review! Byez!!


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